I wanted to do a Father's Day series, I really did. But this past week has just been a tad chaotic, to say the least. So this post may end up on the lengthy side. You see, only one of these men is my ACTUAL father. The rest are those who have definitely played a major role in my life and deserve the recognition.
First - my Daddy. If you know my father, you quickly learn that he is a man of few, if any, words. But over my lifetime, I have become quite adept at translating grunts and huffs of breath. :) My dad was never the outwardly expressive dad. But just this morning, I sat thinking of how EVERY holiday (St. Paddy's, Valentine, Thanksgiving, etc.) he left us all a card and a piece of our favorite candy. Without fail. I still have the cards in a box somewhere. He never wrote out long paragraphs. Usually just a quick "Hope you have a good day, Love, Dad". But I remember getting them from the time I was little bitty. And it was enough. I didn't need more than that - I enjoyed getting every single one and looked forward to it. He sparked my love of history with his giant coffee table books on Vietnam (
who makes coffee table books on a war??) and his sometimes strange, rambling stories on the "good ole days". Summers meant a trip to visit his family where we would gather arrow heads and see the stock yards in Ft. Worth. And I loved every minute of it. Now he is PawPaw to my kids and a pretty good one at that - Oliver adores his PawPaw, and Layan has him wrapped around her finger. And I am so happy that they have that relationship.
Next is my handsome PawPaw - Nowadays, (especially when I've let my anger get the best of me) I'm told I'm just like Mom and him. I can remember a few times when I saw him really let someone have it. But, for the most part, I remember the man who drove me to school every morning for ten years straight. Who read Bambi to me in his chair and gave me peppermints at church. I seriously had the best PawPaw ever and I think all of my siblings and cousins would agree. Every morning, he would make whatever we wanted for breakfast and he would even let me change out of the awful outfits Mom made me wear to school! (yuck) There was honestly NOTHING he couldn't do. I can remember the math problems he would solve for fun (obviously not inherited) and his handwriting. He had beautiful handwriting. Sure, he was a short fuse at times, but he was the literal center of our family for as long as I could remember. I only wish my kids could have known him.
My Big Daddy (I'm not the first grandchild on either side - so blame other cousins for the names) - unfortunately, I was still very young when he passed away. But my Big Daddy was the tallest man I knew. He had knobby hands from arthritis but I remember making bullets with him and Dad in his garage. He smoked cigars and told stories of Dad getting into trouble as a kid. Apparently the lack of words is inherited, because I don't remember him talking excessively. But I can remember climbing up into his massive desk chair and watching Sesame Street.
Finally, there are a few fellas who need recognition for the roles they play in my kids' lives. First, Papa Chad has really stepped up to be a part of the kids' lives. He keeps Oliver in check and is Layan's Protector (which she knows - first sign of trouble = head for Papa Chad). On that note, I'm pretty sure that Layan will not have a dating life in the future - because Papa Chad will scare them off... It's pretty awesome that he makes time for my kids: he listens to them, plays with them, threatens to take them into the pasture, and even pulls the occasional role of babysitter. I am so blessed to have him in our lives, and especially Layan's and Oliver's.
Then there is Uncle Phil - Oliver regularly tells me he is going to grow big-big like Uncle Phillip. There's something pretty cool about a twenty-four year old guy who will roll around on the floor with two toddlers. He's been pooped on, thrown up on, slept on and everything in between and keeps coming back for more. When Uncle Phillip is around - it's adventure time, and I am thankful he plays the role of uncle well.
What I love about Father's Day is that you don't remember the pricey gifts or the amount of money your dad or the men in your life made. You remember the time, the attention and the interactions you shared. The values of hard work and dedication. All THAT makes a father. And it's something that I have spent a LOT of time thinking about. I'm so grateful for all of these men who understand what it means to a child to take a moment and
notice them. You guys rock! Happy Father's Day.
